


The Sword of Promised Victory

by AzureLightningEmeraldCloud



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Andraste needs a hug, BAMF Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Blood Mage Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Canon? what Canon, F/F, I was as kind to solas as I could be..., I'm here for the amazing women of this fandom, Sexy Pope Leliana, Sorry?, but he wants to kill everyone, i understand solas, is the best tag and I'm stealing it, so I cherish the hell out of this fantastic cast
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2020-11-26 03:17:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20923286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureLightningEmeraldCloud/pseuds/AzureLightningEmeraldCloud
Summary: What if Andraste was dropped smack in the middle of the Dragon Age Inquisition plot post-Adamant Fortress?Also, Andraste is a mage, and nothing will ever be the same. She's got some words for the Chantry.I OWN NOTHING. ALL RIGHTS AND CHARACTERS BELONG TO BIOWARE AND EA. NOT MY POOR SELF.





	1. Two Deaths and a Resurrection

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a thought experiment and I don't have a set plot in mind other than following the events of the game, I'll work on that...probably. I hope you enjoy it though.

The Sword of Promised Victory

CHAPTER 1:Two Deaths and a Resurrection

Very Long Time Ago, Minrathous, Tevinter Imperium

“_Though Darkness closes, I am shielded by flame_.” She had been repeating that phrase as they tied her up. She felt the ice in her veins as they forced a dose of Magebane down her throat; some of the vile potion spilled from her lips down her body and onto the wood stacked below her bare feet. She had been dragged from her cell. Her inner legs and feet bore the fresh traces of her monthly bleeding. Her murderers didn’t even grant her the courtesy of a cloth to clean herself before her execution. Not that she could’ve even if they gave her one. They had broken her arms.

“Though Darkness closes, I am shielded by flame,” she rasped as they finished binding her to the pyre. Though the mantra came easily to her lips, all her mind could produce as flames began to consumed her was ‘_what an amazing lie.’ _Her smoke and tear-choked screams for help were burned into the memories of all who witnessed this atrocity. The smell of her charring skin brought several of the uninitiated to retching in the dirt.

Nearly insensate in the throes of her final agony, she dimly felt tug at her chest. As her head lulled forward she perceived the blade being withdrawn from her chest. ‘_Oh’ _The heat began to feel colder as blood gushed down her body into the flames, making hissing sounds as the droplets evaporated.

The Darkness was closing in now, surely. Her vision was already gone at the edges. The Magebane was effective, but the fools should’ve given it to her sooner, let it settle into her system. The adrenaline in her body was frantically fighting it in a way that would terrify the rabid onlookers. As blood flowed freely from the deep gash between her naked breasts, she decided, ‘_I will not die…not like this…I don’t wanna die…not exposed before my enemies.’ _

Some of the other mages in the crowd felt the change in the pressure, the prisoner’s keening was reaching a fever pitch, and they called out to the magister in warning, but it was too late. They could feel it in the air, the breath of calm, saturated with the murderous intent of blood magic.

Those who survived this _execution _would first recall the burning red-head’s final blood-curling scream that heralded the horror to come.

And then a pulse of _power_; her blood seemed to defy gravity, lifting into the air in streams and droplets scattering outward onto the unlucky onlookers before a pillar of _pale emerald _flame erupted from her, consuming the first three rings of spectators.

The Magister who had ordered the execution was alive, though irreparably burned, his right hand was irrecoverably charred. He was on the ground in agony and awe at the perfect radius of death that lay before him: dead Tevinters on their knees, burned to the marrow, the ground around the pyre was turned to glass from the heat. And Andraste? Nothing but ash remained of the accursed red-haired woman or her pyre. Perhaps the southern rumours of her Divinity were true?

After two dozen or so deaths were catalogued, the Tevinters gathered looked to the epicentre of the inferno. Where once was a screaming young woman, there was now a scattered dusting of ash strewn across the cooling ground. At the behest of one of the most cognizant Altus present, a common urn was brought, and the ashes were gathered.

The thought on the minds of many of the gathered survivors: the southern barbarian Andraste was dead, but at what cost?

9:41 Dragon, The Fade via Adamant Fortress

This should not have happened. They were so close. They _finally _knew now what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. They were almost to the rift back to the real world. And then one of them fell to a demon’s claws.

Despite the rather extraordinary forces that had brought them to the Fade, fighting demons was just that: fighting demons. Something all of them had done dozens of times. So when Ellana felt Solas collide into her with a quick cry of pain, she was blindsided. Less than a minute later, all the demons had been destroyed; but Solas lay on the ground still. It didn’t take Ellana longer than a couple seconds to realize what had just happened. In her spellcasting, she had neglected her flank, and Solas had just paid the price for putting himself between her and those sickly green claws.

There was a diagonal cut that went from his shoulder blade to hip, and all of them could see the white of Solas’ spine was peaking through the veritable dam break of blood now soaking the ground. Solas was dying. Ellana frantically thought that perhaps if they had a healing mage with them, they could patch him up, but they had no such luck. Solas _was _their healer, and he was in no position to command the magic to fix himself. Even had she brought Dorian, his fire affinity wouldn’t help here either. It wasn’t that Ellana was incapable of healing minor to moderate burns and lacerations; it was that she had no idea how to approach a spinal injury. She turned her mentor over and poured an overdose of healing potion down his throat. She reached for another but Cassandra lightly grabbed her arm and shook her head. _Save it for youself _she said with her eyes. She was right, but Ellana hated her a little for it. As it was, the potion she gave him would buy him a few minutes at most; at this point it was primarily pain management. They were not leaving here with him alive, and from the ragged breaths of horror, they all knew it.

Hawke, Stroud, Cassandra, Varric, and the Inquisitor were gathered around him. “Ellana, don’t cry,” Solas said as blood dribbled through his teeth.

“Why do this? What the _fuck_ were you thinking?” Ellana whispered furiously as Solas’ lifeblood spilled onto the ground and soaking both their clothes .

The complex expression on Solas’ face was one that all of them were seeing for the first time; it couldn’t be more different than the academic detachment he always carried himself with. His expression was almost regretful, though tinged with sorrow, there was certainly affection and pride in his voice. “You became more important. My plans seem small…when stacked against your one life. You’re my pupil, I had a duty of care. At least now, I never have to be called Fen’Harel ever again. This is how the Dread Wolf dies,” he said almost offhandedly.

“Solas, you’re not making any sense,” Ellana whispered. He _couldn’t be. _He was the horror tale her mother had told her about as a child, the muttered curse on all Dalish lips when things went wrong: _Dread Wolf take you_.

“I’m sorry. I am the Dread Wolf,” Solas said with a small smile, “But I was Solas first.” Ellana flinched at the truth in his eyes. She could process this revelation later. To everyone’s surprise, he addressed the Divine Justinia who was standing off to the side, “I am so sorry. Justinia’s…_your _death was my fault. My orb… _gifted_ to the Elder One. I wanted to restore the world to what it was in my early days; not what I was forced to make it. Divided into Real and Fade. Plan went awry, he didn’t die in the blast. And then there was chaos, but _you…you _survived.” There were a few gasps and muttered oaths at Solas’ words, even if they wouldn’t sink in for a while yet.

The Dread Wolf swallowed a lump of blood and turned his ancient eyes back to his protégé, “Ellana, I’ve tried….” he closed his eyes briefly before continuing, “…to not care. To toss you aside as a casualty of the inevitable sundering of the world I had planned to restore our people…to fix my mistake all those millennia ago. But you have my Mythal’s eyes…how could I…how could I hurt that? Go to her. To Mythal. Her mortal vessel’s name is Flemeth. Tell her I was wrong to try and fix things. Tell her I love her…so much, and I will see her again when it is her time to pass on; I will wait for her. There is a vial of crystal in my pack. Shatter it in front of her. She will know what it means.”

“Solas, we aren’t leaving you here,” Ellana said after a deep breath.

He continued as if she had not spoken. “Burn my body, bring my ashes to Flemeth…to Mythal. Her daughter will know how to reach her…I need to…let me…_save you from this death sentence_,” he was fading, but suddenly possessed with a strength that no dying man should be able to wield, he suddenly grasped Ellana’s left hand.

The Anchor flared to life like it never had before. For nearly a year now, the Anchor had been a foreign entity attached to her, like a tumour on her magic. Ellana screamed as she felt its magic merged with hers. Every nerve in her body activated at the same time, causing agony that made the Anchor’s previous tantrums look small. The Mark expanded down her arm in veins that resembled the emerald vallaslin tattoo on her face. She blacked out.

She awoke to the sound of Cassandra ripping her sword out of an Arcane Horror demon. The other companions encircled the downed Inquisitor as several other demons fell to their blades, Varric’s bolts, and Hawke’s arrows. Ellana looked to where Solas lay. His eyes were closed. His chest did not rise. With her right hand, she felt for a pulse she knew wouldn’t be there.

The dying hiss of the final demon reached her ears. She perceived her left hand–arm really, and gasped. The Anchor was gone. Replacing it was a web of faint green scars trailing from the Anchor’s original position on her hand up through her arm, and under her armour. Ellana was sure that if she disrobed right then, she’d see those green vines of power reach other parts of her body. The green on her body pulsed dimly in time with her heartbeat. The magic had _changed_. It still felt as powerful, but less wild and dangerous; like a crossbow laden with an explosive arrow rather than a barrel of Qunari gattlock powder at the end of her arm. It didn’t hurt anymore. Cassandra had asked once, months ago, if it hurt; and Ellana had lied. It hurt all the time, but her answer was something reassuring, probably…she didn’t entirely remember the exchange.

The Dread Wolf was dead. And nobody knew what to do about it. Ellana didn’t have a clue how she was going to handle the information her mentor had just imparted to her; it was revelatory, in a not good way. Cassandra closed her eyes and prayed quietly as she flicked demon gore off her blade. Both Stroud and Hawke standing shoulder to shoulder had dark looks on their faces. Ellana and the rest of her companions were just shocked.

Hawke moved first, she brushed her dark mane out of her eyes and went to go retrieve the arrows she’d buried in the demons who beset them.

Burning Solas’ body was child’s play. They gathered his ashes in one of the pouches Cassandra had at her belt. The memory crystal that Solas had indicated be shown to Flemeth was in one of Ellana’s pockets.

The rest of their time in the Fade was fairly straight forward. They fought and destroyed the Nightmare. Cassandra led the Inquisition companions through the rift before the Nightmare’s pet spider blocked the path.

Ellana wasn’t losing anyone else today. Stroud had a point. The Wardens while not necessarily at _fault _for the Divine’s death, certainly bore _responsibility _for it. And Hawke’s insistence that Corypheus was _her _burden to bear was something Ellana could also relate to. But she just lost her mentor, the only elf she’d ever met who had _gotten _what it felt like to be _different_. Ellana knew she was a poor excuse for a Dalish elf. And his non-judgement about that was so refreshing. It was almost all she could think about while Stroud and Hawke sniped at each other, trying to get the other to back down. They obviously cared about each other; not romantically, but the way old friends bicker. Ellana could feel how afraid each of them was about losing the other. “Enough,” she said softly.

Hawke and Stroud both shut up and looked to her. _To her; The Champion of Kirkwall _was looking to a Dalish girl in her early twenties for guidance. If the situation weren’t so dire, Ellana Lavellan would’ve remarked on its inherent hilarity.

“No. Absolutely not, Inquisitor,” Stroud said first.

“I agree with the warden, you’re literally the only indispensible one here,” Hawke spat as she glared at the shorter woman. Ellana shrugged.

“I know that. But there’s no way anybody else is dying for me today…”Ellana breathed deeply, knowing what she was about to do would probably haunt both of them for the rest of their lives, for multiple reasons. “Stroud, tell Cassandra not to lose faith. Hawke, go to Skyhold and tell Josie I love her very much.”

“What–,” Marian Hawke protested as she felt herself lose control of her body, as if her mind was severed from the chain of command over her own limbs.

“**Blood Magic,**” Stroud breathed before his body too was taken over by Ellana’s will.

“If there was another way I could live with, I’d be doing that instead,” Ellana grunted from the effort. “Bethany and Varric and Merrill need _you_ to live, and the Wardens need _you _to make it out of this too,” she grunted out addressing the pair of would-be martyrs.

Before either hero could protest more, Ellana piloted them around the spider and through the rift as she laid down bolt after bolt of lightning on the spider, leaving their path clear. With a wet gasp of pain, Ellana closed the rift leading to Adamant.

The fight with the spider was long and arduous. Ellana’s studies in the path of the Knight-Enchanter coupled with her flawless barriers allowed her to weather far more damage than a normal mage. Her spectral blade cut through the spider’s legs like butter, but the manna drain was also palpable. Finally, she managed to deal a heavy blow, she Fade-stepped through its face and through its body, freezing all of its internals. She had done it, she thought with a smile.

She was mistaken. The spider turned in its death throes and was on top of her before she knew it. Its pincer closed around her, held at bay by a decaying barrier. Ellana had no manna left, the barrier would sunder, and the pincers would pull her into the creature’s maw. The Nightmare was right about one thing: Ellana was deathly afraid of spiders, and in the position she was in was literally her worst death imaginable: devoured alive by a giant spider. The last health potion she brought with her to Adamant Fortress was out of reach, knocked from her belt during the fight with the Nightmare.

Ellana’s keening in primal fear echoed unheard as her barrier shattered, and the pincers bit into her flesh. But before anything more than admittedly deep flesh wounds could be done, the entire left side of her body ignited in a nimbus of cold green veil fire.

The spider was rendered to nothing as the green fire bloomed from Ellana’s body into the heavens in a pillar of light taller than any mountain. The pillar of fire lasted for several seconds, and when it extinguished, Ellana gasped as another form fell on top of her with the force of Cassandra throwing her to the ground.

Ellana gasped as she felt her ribs crack from the unexpected impact. Dimly, she thought , “_What the hell is today?” _

The body on top of her was taking gasping breaths, though she was quite obviously injured. Ellana didn’t hesitate; sucking in a agonized breath, she scrambled from under the woman and retrieved the final health potion. Her arms bled freely from the pincer’s bite, though she registered that the muscles in both arms worked mostly alright; though she could feel the poison coursing through her veins all the same. The health potion went down the mystery woman’s gullet; her throat bobbing weakly as she swallowed it down. Ellana sighed in relief that the woman wasn’t dead, and the extensive burns on her lower body was improving to an angry pink. After one look, Ellana took out the dagger Cassandra had once used to cut her bindings at Haven, repurposed as a birthday gift, and shore off the irreparably burnt ginger locks of the woman breathing shallowly in her lap. Her hair was now longer than Leliana’s but a far cry from what it’s previous glory.

Healers. They both needed healers. Ellana looked briefly down at her arm and thought, _‘It’s not like I have anything left to lose.’ _Having little more than intense desire to return home, Ellana pushed the last of her manna into her left hand, but was relieved when the magic already there subtlety alerted her that she needn’t exhaust herself that way.

Ellana extended her hand, and opened a rift right in front of them. Ellana slung the taller red-haired woman over her shoulder like she was a hunter returning with dinner.

She sent up a brief prayer to whoever was listening, whether it was Mythal or the Andrastian Maker, and stepped through the rift she had made to escape form this beautiful and horrifying plane of reality.


	2. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana and Andraste arrive in Skyhold from the Fade.

CHAPTER 2: The Return

The first thing that Ellana noticed as she woke was the pounding of a waterfall; the second thing was the crushing weight was gone from her chest. Perhaps it was fortuitous the only person to witness the return of the Inquisitor was Arcanist Dagna. The rift disappeared with a shaking flick of Ellana’s hand. The mysterious woman with red hair so very reminiscent of Leliana was still unconscious, though thankfully no longer putting pressure on Ellana’s damaged ribs. With her legs splayed out, Ellana realised that the woman was actually quite tall, almost two heads taller than herself if they were standing upright. _Qunari? _Ellana wondered for a moment but disregarded it. This woman was clearly a round-eared human…just a giant one, like the Avvar from the Fallow Mire.

“Dagna, I need–,” Ellana managed before she felt a sharp pain on her arm as Dagna expertly took a tissue sample and placed it on her workstation.

“Sorry! Couldn’t help myself. Oh Maker, I’d never dreamed of seeing a fade rift like that before! And you came out of it. Your mark is _different_. You were just in the Fade. What happened at Adamant? How are you here? Who’s the gorgeous ginger? She’s HUGE! What is happening right now!?” Dagna’s rapid questions were putting a strain on Ellana’s patience. She loved the Dwarven Arcanist, but sometimes she was a little too much in situations that required a softer touch.

“Let me catch my breath first,” Ellana said with huff as she slowly crawled to her feet. Ellana did some quick thinking as she looked around. Harritt wasn’t here, so that was a plus. “Dagna, I need you to fetch Josephine and Leliana. Bring nobody else. Interrupt whatever they’re doing, because this has become the priority. I’m going to lock the door behind you. Have Leliana dispatch a messenger to tell Harritt to take the rest of the day off and not come to the Undercroft. We should not be disturbed.”

Dagna looked into Ellana’s eyes and registered this wasn’t a moment for more questions. “Yes Inquisitor. I’ll be back before you know it! Should we bring a healer? You know, for your ribs and…everything else? You look kinda rough all over.”

“Bring Mother Giselle if you must, and maybe Dalish and Stitches. My inner circle too,” Ellana shrugged and just lay back down on the floor. Dagna just nodded to herself before sprinting off to do her Inquisitor’s bidding. Ellana observed the steady rise and fall of the red-head’s breaths, wondering what the fresh hell she had just gotten herself into again.

_a few minutes later…_

“Dagna, the Bann Trevelyan of Ostwick is not a patient man. He wants us to protect his daughter from the wrath of the remaining Grand Clerics. ”

“Oh trust me Lady Montilyet, this is a real emergency. But why?” Dagna couldn’t help but ask.

Leliana joined them as they crossed the main hall. “Because his daughter Evelyn Trevelyan accepted Rivain’s bounty to hunt down the remaining Templars and Seekers who participated in the Annulment of Dairsmuid. The young woman has been surprisingly effective. Though I suppose being an arcane warrior would lend itself to such a grizzly task.”

“Damn. Well, I’m…I’m glad _somebody _is doing something about that _atrocity_,” Dagna added with quiet venom. Both human women took notice of the stark change in the normally bubbly dwarf. “I had friends that the Templars butchered there.” Dagna added once she recognized the silence her earlier input had caused. “Some of them were still children. Children. We _are _going to protect this Lady Trevelyan right, Sister Leliana?”

“That will be for the Inquisitor to decide,” Leliana replied crisply. “Though I think she’ll share your perspective. She did show support the rebellion after all when she spurned the Templars. We shall bring Bann Trevelyan’s concerns to her upon her return from Adamant.”

“You summoned me, Sister Nightingale?” Mother Giselle approached.

“I did. Though Dagna was rather secretive about _why._” Leliana looked down at the Dwarven girl she’d met ten years ago.

“I’m here!” Dalish announced as she skipped up to them, her Keeper’s robes flourished around her. She was dragging the Bulls’ Chargers’ other elven member, Skinner with her. The Orlesian elf wasn’t looking too pleased about that, or about being summoned by shems. Iron Bull walked behind him, accompanied by a harried-looking Dorian and worried Sera. Blackwall brought up the rear with his trademark stern look of determination etched on his face.

“We’re at your disposal my Ladies,” Stitches said respectfully while lightly elbowing his elven compatriot to show a little more decorum. Dalish just grinned while the Inquisitor’s inner circle just looked to Leliana with questioning eyes.

Cole appeared at Sera’s side, but he completely ignored the people around him. He was looking through the door to the Undercroft with wider eyes than usual. “Can’t stop, can’t stop shaking, why? I’m alive. I’m _home._ But I see that _monster EATING_ me when I close my eyes,” Cole shook his head and before anyone else could react to the horrifying words passing his lips, he continued, “ Though Darkness closes, I am Shielded by flame. But it hurts, why does it hurt so _much?_ My skin is melting. I don’t want to die, but I want it to stop, just _stop. Why can’t the darkness shield me from the flame instead?_” Cole’s words brought chills to everyone gathered there. Sera actively leaned away from him.

“About that…” Dagna trailed off as she opened the Undercroft with her key. She wasn’t even going to begin to think about what the Inquisitor’s oddest companion had just said. The sight that greeted the group was not one that they saw everyday.

Ellana was sitting up, looking very much worse for wear. Leliana flinched at the taste the iron in the air. The Inquisitor’s arms were covered in blood. They’d be perfectly functional, but the angry pink ropes of scar tissue were already forming, and they’d be there for the rest of her life.

“Ellana,” Josephine breathed before rushing to her paramour’s side. The Inquisitor didn’t rise, but Josephine paid not an ounce of care to her frilly dress now pooled on the ground as she hugged her beloved.

“I’m alright…somehow. I knew I’d come back to you,” Ellana said.

“Care to explain?” Leliana asked with her signature raised eyebrow. The shock of what exactly was going on registered in the higher pitch of her voice.

“Can you check up on my arms Mother? I think the health potion has done all it can,” Ellana said softly.

The next several minutes were spent stitching up the Inquisitor and bandaging the head of the tall woman. The woman had burn scars covering most of her body, though Dalish’s definitely-not-magic-elven healing methods rendered the horrifying injuries into light webbing of pink. It was still conspicuous, but it was far better than it was minutes before.

“What are you doing here? How are you here?” Leliana asked. But before the Inquisitor could respond, Leliana quickly turned to Stitches, Skinner, Mother Giselle, and Dalish. “I do not need to warn you of the importance of keeping this conversation secret, no?” The friendly tone she used just made the underlying threat worse somehow.

“Leliana,” Giselle placated, but was stopped by the icy look she received from the spymaster, and wisely silenced herself.

“Am I clear?” Leliana reiterated.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Very well.”

“Alright then, you daft tit.”

“Of course!”

“You have my silence.”

“Absolute secrecy.”

“Hnn.”

Dalish prodded Skinner to give the spymaster better answer. Skinner said something terse in Orlesian and Leliana nodded back, satisfied.

Ellana looked up at her Inner Circle sans Varric and Cassandra and then at Leliana, Josephine before starting her tale, “I don’t exactly know the outcome of the battle. I am optimistic though, since I was able to close the rift from which the Nightmare was controlling the Demon army. I’ll explain that later. The demons should be dealt with, and the Warden mages freed,” Ellana began explaining. “The non-mage Wardens were helping us by the end. I believe Cullen was able to hold things together. Stroud should be able to manage the remaining Wardens,” Ellana sighed and her jaw clenched.

“Warden Commander Clarel was bitten nearly in half by Corypheus’ dragon, but she managed to drive it off with her last bolt of lighting. She’s dead. I think she powered the final blast with her lifeblood at the end. It blew apart the bridge we were standing on, and we fell. I opened a rift in the veil before hitting the ground.” Ellana looked up and met each of their eyes before resting on her lover’s. Josephine stroked her cheek with a small smile, encouraging Ellana to continue, which she did. “Myself, Warden Stroud, Cassandra, Marian Hawke, Varric, and S-Solas fell into the Fade.”

Ellana ignored the gasps of horror and shock and continued, because she knew she didn’t have the strength to explain the next part if she stopped to think about it too much. “We met a spirit, she guided us through the Fade to recover my memories of the Conclave. She was in the image of the Divine. Cassandra couldn’t tell the difference, so I’m not sure if it was her soul, or something else holy, but she made sure we got out alive…well, most of us.” Ellana’s tears started gathering in her eyes. They all stiffened at that. Iron Bull clenched his fists and Sera’s face paled.

“Solas is dead. He pushed me out of the way of a T-Terror demon and was slashed so _deep._ He said _things, _before he passed. He-He used the last of his magic to do this.” Ellana raised her left arm. The Mark wasn’t exactly gone, but it was _changed._

“I’m sorry,” Leliana said quietly. “How is the Mark different now?”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Ellana confessed. She didn’t notice the flicker of emotion on Josephine’s face. She herself had _asked _Ellana not too long ago how it felt, and now she knew Ellana had lied to her face about how it wasn’t hurting her anymore. She raised her arm, showing them the vines of green running from her hand all down her arm and beyond. “There were other _things _he said. I’m still…” Ellana looked between the two Chantry-affiliated women in front of her. “He revealed so much that will shatter the foundations of the Chantry, _and _the Dalish’s beliefs. He’s…he’s one of the old gods of the People.” Ellana looked to Dalish as she said this, beseeching the other Dalish-raised elf to understand the magnitude of the moment.

“What?” Dalish asked with awe. “But that’s…that’s not possible.” Dalish’s normal humour was absent in her voice.

Ellana looked up at Dalish and said, “He’s. He _was _the Dread Wolf, Fen’Harel.”

Nobody knew exactly what to say to that, but Dagna patted her on the shoulder and Ellana gave the dwarf a small smile. Dalish was left reeling, but Bull put a comforting hand on her shoulder, keeping her steady. “We were almost out of the Fade when we met the Nightmare in battle. It was an ancient and nigh godly powerful demon that was doing Corypheus’ bidding. It _fed _on the fear of all Thedas. It was the one that faked the Calling in all the Wardens here in the South. The Spirit that aided us bought us a few moments by driving away one of the Nightmare’s servants,” Ellana shuddered so violently that both Stitches and Josephine grabbed her shoulder on each side to steady her. “Cassandra and Varric exited the rift the Wardens had made from the other side. And then the Nightmare’s servant rallied. Stroud, Hawke, and myself were trapped on the other side.”

Leliana had a bad feeling in her gut where this was going. “And you did the stupid thing, didn’t you,” the spymaster supplied. Her words weren’t exactly cutting, but sad.

“Ellana, tell me you didn’t,” Josephine begged as tears filled her eyes.

The Dalish Inquisitor looked up at her love and said, “Solas had just died in my arms for my mistake in combat. I wasn’t going to let anybody else die for _me._” Ellana’s voice trembled, but there was an edge there that brooked no argument.

“Surely Stroud and Hawke didn’t just _leave _you there,” Giselle gasped.

Ellana shook her head and chuckled darkly. “I…I used blood magic to force them both through the rift to relative safety before closing it behind them, severing the Nightmare’s control over all the Warden mages. They so _betrayed, _but I didn’t know how else to save them,” Ellana added with a sad sigh. There were tears running down her cheeks, and she sniffed a few times before regaining her composure.

She looked up at the others, waiting to be judged. “And you stayed to slay the Nightmare didn’t you,” Dagna whispered.

Ellana Lavellan shuddered again and nodded violently. “Yes. I…I thought I was going to…” she gestured helplessly to her arms which were badly marred even with the medical attention she had received. The others now realized how she had gotten those ghastly wounds. “Its pincers were _around me_. The fight was _over, _and I _lost. _I was being drawn into its maw when…” Ellana trailed off and looked at the unconscious burn victim with the red hair. Josephine nearly threw up at the look of abject terror in her lover’s eyes. She had believed she was going to _die _alone and in agony, devoured by her greatest fear.

“But you’re alright, right? You’re _here_. You made it back,” Sera piped up. The city elf would never admit it, but seeing Lavellan’s eyes as she described what might very well be the worst experience of her life was terrifying in a way Sera hadn’t felt since living on the streets of Denerim. If the Inquisitor was that scared, then what was going to happen to the rest of them?

Ellana was pulled out of her memory by Sera’s desperate words. “Yeah. Yeah, I made it. My arm…it did this _thing_. A pillar of veil fire erupted, it disintegrated the giant spider. And then _she _appeared. She crashed down onto me, and she was hurt. The burns were so bad, and her head hit the ground as she landed. I made her drink the last potion before using the Anchor to open another rift. And it lead me here.” Ellana finished with a long sigh, and leaned into her Josie.

“So…we have no idea who the Fade chick is then?” Iron Bull asked for clarification.

Sera jumped on the opportunity for banter, desperately so. “She’s…she’s well fit.” Leliana sent a disapproving glance at Sera but internally was forced to agree. The abnormally tall woman _was _quite a beauty.

“She was burning,” Cole spoke up. “In her mind, I saw a roaring fire, and she was in the middle of it. A flash of red and green and then darkness,” Cole looked quizzically at the woman.

“Though Darkness closes, I’m shielded by flame,” Leliana repeated Cole’s earlier words. “That’s scripture. It came from _her _head outside yes? Not Ellana?”

Cole nodded but didn’t say any more. “Look,” Dagna began, “I think we need to get her to a bed, right? I mean, gawking at her is all good, but she needs proper clothes and a bath from the look of things. You do too your Worship,” all eyes were drawn to the shortest among them. What kind of world was it where the neurotic enchanting prodigy was the voice of reason?

“You are quite right, Dagna,” Leliana said.

“Put her in my quarters,” Ellana said. At the befuddled looks she was getting, she said, “Bull can carry her up there, and it’s the least likely place to be disturbed. If you don’t want people to know about her, you two can clear the hall citing something or other. You should also send a raven to our people at Adamant telling them I’m you know…still alive. Also send one to Hawke. I doubt she’ll stick around when her people are still mostly in the Free Marches and her information has ran its course. Also, she probably thinks I’m dead because of her, and I don’t want her to think that. Send one to Stroud as well. He’ll blame himself forever too.” Leliana nodded at the Inquisitor’s words and went to exit the room.

“I’ll let you know when you can cross the hall with that one,” Leliana said to Bull who nodded as he gathered the mystery woman in his arms. After a couple of minutes, he too was gone.

Josephine pulled Ellana to her feet and their kiss was desperate and fearful and so very relived. Most of everyone else cleared out after that. Well, Dagna, and Sera stayed, because they enjoyed the show and had zero shame.

“Don’t stop on our account,” Dagna said sincerely as she walked over to her workstation.

Josephine rolled her eyes as Ellana smiled into her collarbone. Sera just grinned lecherously before slinking out, mentioning something about ‘I’ll be in my room.’

“Josie, I love you so much. So much. I…I…” Ellana stuttered as she tried to speak.

“Ellana just breath. The thought that I almost lost you today…” Josephine took a ragged breath as she looked into Ellana’s wet eyes. “I don’t have words for how scared that makes me. But I want you to know you are my heart.”

Ellana leans up to kiss Josie again, softer this time. “You know what, I’m actually gonna just go.” Dagna decided aloud as she too exited the Undercroft. Josie walked over and locked the door and turned back to her love with a feral light in her eyes.

“Do you have the strength to sit on that table over there?” Josephine asked as she walked back to her Inquisitor.

“Only just,” Ellana replied with a quirked eyebrow. She squeaked when Josephine picked her up and placed her on said tinting table and stood between Ellana’s legs. Ellana’s grin of anticipation only widened as Josephine laid her lips on the elf’s pulse while her hands removed her trousers. Josephine knelt and smiled up at her love with a tenderness that was foreign to Ellana in situations like these.

“Let me _show _you, Ellana.” Josephine smiled as Ellana’s noises of pleasure echoed around the Undercroft as loudly as the waterfall.


End file.
